The Darkhorse
by Robe a la Anglaise
Summary: A collection of unrelated oneshots of various genres and lengths, all vaguely romantic, focused around Mori and Haruhi. May be some smutty stuff in later chapters, but it will be clearly marked. MoriXHaruhi.
1. What Dreams May Come

**AN: I don't own it. I'm not making any money off of it. A collection of oneshots of various lengths and genres focused around Mori and Haruhi (because they're my favorite)**

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**What Dreams May Come**

A giggle caught his ear as he was finishing his morning practice.

He moved precisely through the last exercises of his set and breathed deeply.

Another muffled childish giggle. Mori allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards and turned towards the entrance to the dojo.

Dark eyes and a head of spiky dark hair peeked around the corner and Mori let amusement cross his face.

"hnnn" his smile widened and a grin appeared on the small face before a tiny body hurdled across the tatami mats and into Takashi's legs.

"Daddy!"

A low laugh rumbled across the room as the tall man grabbed his son and swung him up into the air.

"Kazuma-kun!" a feminine voice admonished from outside the room and Takashi watched with an affectionate smile as a very pregnant Haruhi appeared from the same direction their son had come. She regarded her husband, still in his hakama and holding a shinai in one hand and an upside-down Kazuma in the other, with amusement.

Kazuma smiled innocently, "Hi mommy."

"Uh-huh." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, "Kazuma, we have rules about interrupting your father's practice."

"But he's finished! I didn't interrupt! Did I dad?" the boy craned his head up to look pleadingly at his father.

"You've been spending too much time with your uncles Kazu-kun. Looking pathetic isn't going to get you out of trouble with us. And you know it."

"But Kaoru-san and Hikaru-san said that…"

Takashi set his son down and ruffled his hair, "Listen to your mother." Resting his hand on the boy's head he steered him towards the door, "Tell grandma we'll be in for breakfast." Kazuma sped down the flagstone path that led through the garden.

"Are you sure another one is a good idea?" Haruhi asked wryly, standing with her hands braced on the small of her back and watching after their son who was tearing up the flagstone path towards the main house.

Takashi trailed one of his hands down her back, curling it around her to rest on her distended stomach and pull her towards him. When she raised her face in question he stole a quick kiss and smiled down at her, "I'm sure."

"Mori-senpai…" her voice was soft and she was smiling up at him.

"Mori senpai…" his vision was blurring around the edges and he shook his head in confusion. There was a moment of complete disorientation, and all of the sudden he was looking up at her. And why was her hair boyishly short again?

"Mori senpai, are you awake?" her head tilted slightly to the side, "it's time to go home…"

His confusion must have shown on his face…

"Host Club is over, you were pretty deeply asleep. I'm sorry I had to wake you."

"Hnn."

A dream, a fantastically realistic one, but a dream nonetheless. He could still feel the soft spring breeze coming in the window of his family's dojo. The dojo that his dream had reproduced in excruciatingly accurate detail. The sense of peace and contentment that had run through the dream world was slowly giving way to embarrassment to have one of the key objects of that dream offering him a friendly, albeit bemused smile.

"Are you alright Mori-sempai? Your face is sort of flushed," he saw one of her hands twitch as if she wanted to reach out to feel for herself if he was feverish.

"Oh Haruhi! My Sweet Daughter! Your concern for others is so endearing!"

Mori watched as the gentle worry on Haruhi's face dropped into the familiar studied and long-suffering apathy characteristic of her reactions to most of the Host Club theatrics.

"Please stop smushing my face Sempai."

Mori watched quietly as she was once more swept away into the insanity of the Host Club. He lived his life in contemplation, but in life, as in Kendo, the time came when one had to stop strategizing and strike. Perhaps the time had come for him to make his move.

--END—

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*Peace Y'all*


	2. Undercurrents

**AN: I don't own it. I'm not making any money off of it. A collection of oneshots of various lengths and genres focused around Mori and Haruhi (because they're my favorite)**

**Undercurrents**

The day hadn't gone at all as planned.

Initially Kyoya had called _the twins_ when the costume shipment for today's _Cabaret_ theme was set to be delayed. There was no way he could trust Tamaki with such a responsibility. But then the twins had handed off responsibility to Mori and Honey, citing exam week as an excuse for not having the time to spare to costuming.

Mori's uncle, who had connections through body-guard work to the movie industry, had connected them with the best costume shop in Tokyo.

And Mori had gone to help select outfits.

Kyoya had made sure to give him specifics. Not that he didn't trust Mori. Really there was no one else in the club that he would assign a truly crucial task to, but costuming aesthetics weren't necessarily up the taller boy's alley.

But just because he hadn't planned it didn't mean he was oblivious to what was going on.

It was all about _undercurrents_.

And the intense look Mori-senpai was giving Haruhi at this moment as she laughed lightly at something one of her guests said, was full of _undercurrents_. It had been a risk, honestly, actually allowing Haruhi to wear the costume. One might think that the voluminous skirts, lace, and frills favored by the twins and Tamaki would reveal Haruhi's femininity when the club's cosplay cast her in a feminine role (and honestly, the customer's loved it, so why shouldn't they?). But in actuality _this_ elegantly refined woman's suit, sleek and tailored, that Mori-sempai and Honey-sempai had chosen was a far greater threat to giving away her biggest secret than the 'cute' outfits favored by the twins and Tamaki.

Kyoya easily hid the surprise he felt. He was unused to being surprised, but it did happen on occasion. And there was always room to use such rare occurrences to his advantage.

As he scanned the room his gaze was caught by the smallest, least assuming of the Host Club members. There was a great deal of _knowing_ in those sparkling, child-like eyes. Kyoya repressed a shudder.

There were few, very few things in this world that truly unnerved him, but the possibility that occasionally crossed his mind, that Honey-sempai might understand more of the _undercurrents_ of the Club's relationships than Kyoya himself, was one of those things.

--END--

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*peace y'all*


	3. Blindsided

*AN – I don't own them or profit from them. Honey is a little OOC in this – but I think even in the canon timeline he's much more mature than he lets on – he just prefers to act silly and childlike. At some point, especially when he finally grows up physically I think that'd change. A grown man acting like a little boy **isn't** endearing. *

*Warning – chapter contains allusions to sexual situations, but nothing explicit.*

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**Blindsided **

Haninozuka Mitsukuni tried his best to hide his irritation. He tried every relaxation technique he had learned over his long years of training and study.

_Deep breath. Focus on your heartbeat. Release breath slowly_.

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

He could hear the dull throb of his heartbeat. He could hear the murmur of discussion in the little restaurant. If he focused he could even listen to specific conversations. Somewhere to his right the big wall-clock ticked a steady rhythm. Someone dropped a tray in the kitchen; a cell phone rang; and under it all he could hear the slow, even, calm breathing of his tablemate.

His irritation ratcheted up another notch and his eyes flicked open.

"_What_ was wrong with this one Takashi?"

He was facing down his _eleventh_ disappointment in plan: Get Takashi A Girlfriend. Considering the plan had only been enacted only five and a half months earlier Honey considered it a truly impressive failure rate. That worked out to nearly two girls a month. And _nine_ of the eleven hadn't lasted more than one extremely awkward blind date or artificially constructed social situation.

His tablemate gave a shrug. Only years of close acquaintance told Honey that his stoic cousin was mildly irritated. At least as frustrated as Honey himself, even though the frustrations stemmed from different sources.

Ever since Honey had decided to try and find a nice girl for his deserving cousin their relationship had taken on an uncharacteristic strain. The problem was, although Takashi was a remarkable young man, he was actually rather shy, reserved, had a tendency to blame himself for anything that went wrong, and always underestimated his own worth.

"_You can't take care of the whole world Takashi,"_ Honey was constantly reminding him.

But Takashi had spent so long taking care of Honey that Honey felt compelled to return the favor in any way that he could. And now that he was engaged to a beautiful, kind, and talented French pastry chef he'd met through Tamaki, Honey was even more determined that his cousin should find the same sort of blissful happiness that came from well-suited companionship.

But the process, that essentially was a series of blind dates, had revealed a before now hidden stubborn streak in his quiet and normally complacent cousin.

"I mean, I'm not just picking girls at random y'know. I have a careful screening process; intelligence level, attractiveness, kindness, personality. I know these girls aren't mutants or anything so what's the problem?"

Mori's gaze slid away into a light scowl and he grunted noncommittally.

"Maybe if you would give me a little feedback. Am I working off a faulty assumption? Do you not like nice girls? Need someone a little rough around the edges? Someone a little kinkier? More … masculine maybe?"

Takashi granted his cousin a withering glance.

It had become tradition over the past half year to meet at this little diner a couple of days after one of the arranged dates and discuss the fallout of the latest failure. And as per tradition Honey spent the duration of the lunch trying to pull information out of his cousin that Takashi wasn't willing to give. It was like trying to get blood from a stone.

Honey sighed and ran his hand through his hair; a nervous habit he had developed in college when he had finally hit his growth spurt and realized that people no longer found it cute that he carried around a stuffed animal. They found it creepy.

Growing just a few inches shy of a foot in a little over a year also introduced him to the wonderful world of girls who were interested in _kissing_ him instead of just cuddling him, and Honey had found that he was willing to give up Bun-Bun if it meant a chance to charm a cute girl into a date. Unfortunately that left his hands empty, hence the nervous habit that resulted in permanently mussed hair.

Honey paid the check and the two rose to leave when a familiar laugh stopped Honey in his tracks. He hadn't heard the voice in years, but there was no mistaking the honest, uncalculated sound of the laughter

"Haru-chan?!"

A smartly dressed woman turned at the name, a mane of dark hair swishing around her face and huge brown eyes blinking in curiosity.

"Honey-senpai?!" she goggled at him in amazement before slowly smiling, "goodness, how long has it been?" she excused herself from her companions and rose from the table to close the distance between them. Making a show of having to tilt her head back a bit to look him in the face she exclaimed, "You grew Honey-sempai!"

"You shrank!"

She smiled at that, "God, forbid! I don't exactly have a lot of extra height to spare. I hear that congratulations are in order."

Honey beamed in genuine joy, "Thank you, Sophie and I are very happy, but how did you know?"

Haruhi smiled and rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try I can't entirely get rid of the twins. They keep me up-to-date on everyone. Well, mostly." She shrugged.

"Takashi and I meet here for lunch a couple of times a month, right Takash…" Honey noticed that Takashi had gone still. Not stiff and frozen in a way that anyone else would notice, but once again Honey's familiarity with the quiet man served him well. Takashi was a man who was quite aware of and in control of his body. You didn't become an internationally recognized kendoist without that trait. He usually had a sort of relaxed intensity about his movements - a sort of powerful flowing grace that spoke of power and control.

But now?

His shoulders were tight and his hands were hanging oddly at his sides as if he didn't quite know what to do with them. But his eyes...there was a fierce intensity in his eyes as he looked at Haruhi that was unlike anything Honey had ever seen in his cousin.

Actually the closest Honey could come to an analogy was the way lions went still when they had sighted a gazelle – all their attention focused in an instant on that one spot, and all their muscles ready to spring to action in a moment's notice.

Come to think of it, Honey hadn't really been in tune with Mori's reactions when they'd still been in High School, but it occurred to him that this same awkward tension infused his body a lot during their last year at Ouran. And while he had never seen this particular look in his cousin's eyes, it didn't mean he couldn't put two and two together.

Honey's eyes flicked between his cousin and Haruhi, who had begun innocently relating something about the co-workers she was out at lunch with.

Honey could have kicked himself - it wasn't that the girls he'd been picking weren't nice enough or too nice, or that they couldn't handle Takashi's reserve, or any of the numerous explanations he had been trying out over the past months - the problem with the girls he had been picking hadn't been _the right girl_. It was testament to Mori's reserve and private nature that this was the first time such a suspicion had even crossed Honey's mind. Though it made sense. It was obvious while they had still been in High School that several other members of the host club had boyish crushes on her.

Actually it would be like Takashi, _just like him_, to hide his feelings because he felt that others deserved her more, or that he couldn't even hope to be worthy of her. Just like him to love someone in silence, and for that love to transcend distance and time.

Honey had always thought that if Mori ever fell in love that it would never occur to the tall, steady man that the love might fade with time or that there would ever be an occasion to abandon that affection.

His cousin didn't do things in halves. It was all or nothing.

Revelation making him focus a little closer he tuned back into the conversation.

"And how have you been Mori-sempai?"

"Takashi."

Honey's eyes widened slightly at the deep rumble of his cousin's voice and his suspicions solidified. No one outside of his cousin's family called him by his given name.

"Takashi-semp…Takashi-san…" Haruhi's voice had taken on an unfamiliar soft edge and to Honey's shock a touch of pink flushed her cheeks. Her eyes flicked past them to her table where one of the women was motioning to her.

"Ahh, can you guys hold on just a minute?"

As Haruhi walked back to her table and her gesturing tablemate Honey's gaze whipped back to Takashi, and he caught his cousin's eye with a look of accusation. All this time Honey had been worrying about Takashi he'd been holding out on him!

Takashi met his gaze steadily and a flurry of meaning passed back and forth between them before Haruhi returned.

"I have to run back to work, and I don't want to delay you guys any further, but we should keep in touch. Here, this is my card,"

Honey suddenly found something to occupy his hands. He may have grown some, but he could still play up the adorable, innocent little boy act quite well.

She blinked and turned towards the taller man, "Uh, here Mor – Takashi-san."

Honey discretely watched the way Takashi's large hands seemed to cradle Haruhi's smaller ones as he gently freed the little white rectangle from her. There was no mistaking the blush in her cheeks now.

Haruhi whipped her hand out of his and took a step back, glancing sidelong at Mori as if suspicious he was causing her strange reactions intentionally.

"You guys should contact me and we should meet for lunch sometime. It would be nice to catch up!"

Honey couldn't deny there was there was something amusing in the situation. In fact, there was a lot of amusing in it. Although Honey had long ago seen that most of the members of the Host Club harbored some sort of interest in Haruhi, he had never thought that any of the potential relationships would be lasting ones. The long term compatibility just wasn't there. But he could actually see Haruhi and Takashi _working out_, as it were. Haruhi had the quiet grace and dignity that so many (even well-bred) girls lacked, and Takashi had the reserve and respectfulness that suited a woman like Haruhi. All in all, there could be much worse pairings.

His cousin's voice interrupted his musings, "Mitsukuni, _don't._" warning practically dripped from Mori's tone.

Honey's gaze flicked back to Haruhi as he spoke, "Why Takashi, I don't know what you're talking about." A slow smile slid across his face. He modified his initial assessment of the situation, this wasn't just going to be interesting, this was going to be _fun_.

***

Except in the end it didn't turn out to be nearly as much fun as Mitsukuni initially hoped it would. Because, much to his astonishment, his cousin had apparently needed no more encouragement that Haruhi's blush and obvious confusion at her own reaction to their chance encounter to take the initiative.

As it turned out Honey's initial assessment of Mori's reaction as _lion-like _had be strangely appropriate because as far as Honey could tell, Takashi had _hunted_ Haruhi down. Honey had been surprised to run into them alone together in a nice little café one day around lunch, but even more surprised to learn that this was their _fourth_ of such meetings. Haruhi, true to form, had smiled kindly at him and invited him to join them. Was the girl really still that clueless? But a warning glance from his cousin shifted Honey's inclination to accept into a regretful smile and a smooth lie about prior engagements.

The burgeoning relationship was never obvious.

A phone call in the middle of a casual lunch that brought a special warmth to Takashi's smile. A stack of pictures from a kendo championship lying casually on Takashi's kitchen counter, and there, almost out of the frame in one, a petite young woman with huge dark eyes. The simple fact that Takashi wasn't at home nearly as much as he usually was when Mitsukuni was trying to find him. But nothing overt was ever said about it. His cousin didn't talk about the dates Honey was increasingly sure he was having. He was never the one who brought the subject of Haruhi up, and when Honey teasingly did he was rewarded only with stubbornly tight lips and wryly amused eyes that said _No matter how you pry, it isn't going to work_.

It was almost like his cousin was… not trying to keep it a _secret_ exactly, but trying to keep it under the radar.

So he had been shocked into open-mouthed silence on a spur of the moment visit with Takashi's parents to hear his Aunt suddenly start gushing about "That sweet girl Haruhi". It seemed that the Morinozukas had "accidentally" run into Takashi and Haruhi at a museum opening and Haruhi had successfully charmed Takashi's mother. His father said nothing one way or the other, but that was to be expected, and at least meant that he didn't _dis_approve.

He had to wonder if Haruhi herself knew that Mori's mother was probably already buying every wedding magazine she could get her hands on. Haruhi might not seem to care much for that sort of thing, but Honey didn't believe for one second that she would let someone hijack her wedding into a huge production.

Still, at the time Honey hadn't given the occurrence much further thought - chalking it up to his Aunt's sentimental nature, the fact that she didn't have any daughters of her own to plan weddings for, and the fact that Satoshi had recently instigated a family kerfuffle by eloping. Even _if_ Takashi and Haruhi got married, it wasn't anything that was going to happen anytime soon.

Of course, that was before he noticed the way Takashi touched Haruhi. It was always chaste and subtle, nothing that anyone would notice if they weren't looking. But Honey was looking, and Haruhi cleaned up quite nicely, so a lot of other men were looking too. Which was, Honey eventually realized, exactly _why_ Takashi was touching her in public. His hand on her shoulder, or resting in the small of her back, a brush of his fingers to straighten her purse on her shoulder, helping her with her coat by smoothing it down her arms – all of it was Takashi's way of saying _This is Mine, I'm making it clear to you that she is mine; so I don't have to hurt you if you try and touch her_.

And, well, if you valued your health you just didn't touch things that belonged to a man that looked like Morinozuka Takashi.

But even if Takashi was acting proprietary and possessive, from Honey's view Haruhi still seemed blissfully unaware of the subtext that thickened the air whenever Takashi loomed behind her when she ran into a male co-worker or was approached by men at museum functions or outdoor festivals.

So Honey was absolutely floored, although in hindsight he supposed that he should have seen it coming, when he strolled into his cousin's rooms one morning with a bright and cheery greeting the same way he had always done, and he had been met with _**two**_ pairs of eyes peering up at him from a tangle of bedding. One set of eyes widened above rapidly reddening cheeks and one set narrowed in irritation.

He froze mid-step, his sentence half-finished, mouth opening and closing uselessly, as he desperately tried to think of some way to gracefully get himself out of this situation. Suddenly his cousin's towering form was standing over him as he was grabbed by the scruff of the neck and dragged out of the bedroom.

It was one of the only times that he had ever seen Takashi visibly angry and it would remain one of the few times his cousin would ever use physical force against him. Of course, he never forgot to knock after that.

Who would have thought that Takashi would be even _more_ intimidating in nothing but a sheet than he was fully dressed?

After that, not much surprised Honey when it came to Takashi and Haruhi. But he did enjoy being the bearer of the tidings to the rest of the former Host Club. Kyoya looked for a moment like he had swallowed something unpleasant before raising an eyebrow as if the news did not affect him. The twins had frowned in unison, and then given fatalistic shrug, "We knew something was up. If anyone was going to have her, he's probably the best man we could think of." Tamaki had exploded into effusive raptures of joy until his wife swept gracefully into the room and swapped him on the head.

Then he had unexpectedly run into Renge. When she had flirtingly asked after her "dear Haruhi", Honey had smiled beatifically and relayed the news, "Haruhi and Takashi are engaged."

"They…what…Haruhi…he's marrying Mori-sempai?!" Honey could practically see the hearts forming in her eyes.

"_She_ is marrying Mori." Honey corrected.

Renge processed this for a second or two and then squealed excitedly, "Haruhi got a sex change!?!"

--END--

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*Peace y'all*


	4. Femininity

**Disclaimer – I don't own them or profit from them. This, like all fanfic, is just for fun.**

**AN – I had planned on having this posted a couple of days ago, but going back and editing these bits of writing that I haven't touched in a couple of years is fussy and boring. It'll get done. Just not as fast as I would like. ALSO - Thank you to everyone who reviewed/faved/etc.! Its really encouraging and reassuring for someone whose never posted anything before.  
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**Femininity**

Most people probably assumed that Morinozuka Takashi liked cute things.

It wasn't an _entirely_ incorrect assumption. He liked Mitsukuni, and Mitsukuni, he supposed, was 'cute', so there were things in the world which were cute, and which he liked. But unlike his tiny cousin, he didn't like things _because_ they were cute.

Honey genuinely liked sweet things, pink fluffy things, frilly lacy things, _cute things_. But Mori had been raised in a very traditional household, and the traditional aesthetics of spare elegance and reserved natural beauty were far more appealing to him.

And he'd found that applied when it came to girls as well.

Sometimes he felt that joining the host club had been one of the worst decisions he had ever made, because at times he wanted to give up hope on the entirety of the gentler sex. Sitting through hours of giggling and gossiping and inane conversation - if he didn't have the distraction of looking after Mitsukuni he might have run from the room as fast as he could, never to return. Maybe he should have joined the history club instead. But his mother had been concerned that with his reserved mien, loyalty to his cousin, and his fierce dedication to kendo that he would never learn how to interact with females. The history club certainly wouldn't help. So, half to stay close to his cousin's side, and half to offer his mother some sort of reassurance that he wouldn't end up alone, he had joined the Host Club.

However, just because he didn't like _cute_ when it came to girls didn't mean that he didn't like them _feminine. _

There was a difference.

When he first met Haruhi he had been baffled at Tamaki and the twins constantly fawning over her and gushing over how _cute_ she was. Aside from the fact that he didn't really see the appeal in cute girls in the first place, she had to be the least _cute_ girl he had ever seen.

Well…perhaps sometimes, sometimes when the twins forced her into some frilly concoction or she let out a rare giggle, sometimes, he supposed, she might be considered 'cute'. But it wasn't the cute that Tamaki, Hikaru, Kaoru, and even Mitsukuni meant. These reactions were cute in her because they were in such contrast to her usual manner.

Most of the time she was practical, highly self-sufficient, and straight-forward with a snarky, biting edge. She didn't flounce or bounce around like most girls and didn't bat her eyelashes or fidget with her hair.

She could care less if people even thought she was a girl.

So was it really so surprising that before now he had never before realized just how feminine Haruhi could be? Seeing how Tamaki and the twins tugged and pushed her this way and that, and witnessing her decidedly un-girl-like reactions to things one often forgot that Haruhi wasn't just another one of the boys.

But at this moment Mori was very much aware of just how delicate and feminine the sole female member of the host club was.

Of course, for someone of his stature _most_ girls seemed like very small creatures. But Haruhi, over a foot shorter than him, barely reached his shoulder. Her hair had grown out a bit over the summer and at present was pulled back into a short nub of a ponytail. With her hair up and wearing the flimsy little indigo sundress the twins mother had sent her as a special gift (their mother seemed to have a much better grasp on the type of clothing Haruhi would be willing to wear than either the twins, Tamaki, or even Harhui's father) Mori found it impossible to ignore the wispy bits of her hair that lay against the pale skin at the nape of her neck. His eyes betrayed him as they slid down the supple arch of her throat and across the almost fragile curve of her shoulders. From this angle he could just see the wings of her collar bones on one side and the subtle ridge of her spine on the other.

He knew from past rescue attempts all of that exposed skin was just as smooth and silky as it looked. He always felt a little guilty whenever he touched her. She was a girl, and he shouldn't feel the distracted fascination of her soft skin under his large, rough hands.

Honorable intentions should keep him from wanting to continue to touch her, should keep him from _accidentally_ brushing against her, or offering her shoulder or head a _friendly _pat.

Haruhi huffed a sigh, drawing his attention to her sweetly modest curves, before she craned her head up and around to look up at her silent escort.

"They've probably gotten themselves lost and just called a car by now."

"Aah."

Her eyes were so huge and luminous. That at least he noticed even when she was dressed as a boy.

They were in Hokkaido on yet another of Tamaki's harebrained, last minute, vacations. At some point during the day's scheduled shopping excursion Tamaki and the twins had dashed off in excitement about commoner traditions and regional treats, dragging Honey with them.

Mori had been torn – wanting to follow, but aware that doing so would leave Haruhi unattended. He was a little bemused at the way Haruhi could be the center of attention one minute, but then be so easily forgotten in the next. Not that she seemed to mind.

Today she'd simply rolled her eyes a little and invited him to come along with her while she shopped for souvenirs.

He'd been pleasantly surprised to find himself enjoying the afternoon and the quiet companionship as Haruhi went about her business. Mori liked that she didn't feel the need to fill the silence with idle chatter.

He'd been surprised once again when she wordlessly slipped a bag with a book of Heian poetry into his hand with a brief smile. He hadn't realized that she'd noticed him reading it while she bought her father a good luck charm. Of all the host club members he was the only one who didn't constantly indulge himself. He couldn't help it. His family was more recently wealthy than Mitzukuni's, and more strictly traditional than Kyoya's without the foreign or modern influences of the Suohs and Hatachins. When they were growing up anything that he or his brother _needed_ was immediately and unquestioningly provided. But '_wants' _were more closely assessed and regulated.

Mori trailed after Haruhi as she ducked into another shop, pondering the bloom of warmth in his chest. Was it normal to look at a girl and, realizing how tiny and vulnerable she was, want to protect her from _everything_?

He wanted to protect Mitsukuni because it was his duty and it was what he was born to do, and as a general rule he knew it was honorable to protect anyone that it was in his power to protect. But he had never felt such an overwhelming urge to safeguard a person who was as capable and self-sufficient as Haruhi.

Maybe it had something to do with her complete and utter unselfconsciousness. Even now as they walked down the crowded street he could tell she was unaware of the appraising looks men were giving her. He'd seen it enough times to know that Haruhi was oblivious to that sort of interest from the opposite sex. Euphemisms and subtext were lost on the girl's direct and literal personality.

"Okay, I think I have souvenirs for everyone back home." She looked up at the sky, presumably to gauge the time, "I guess that I should wrap it up and we can go back to the mansion, was there anything else you needed while we're out Mori-sempai?"

"No,"

She gave him a small smile before approaching the counter to make her last purchases.

Takashi didn't intentionally change his expression when the young man who had been lingering in the shop began to approach her, but something in his eyes effectively brought the other male up short. It wasn't the first time today that Mori had warned someone off, but now that he was noticing Haruhi as female it felt a little less like part of his instinct to protect, and a little more like possessiveness.

The young man's eyes flicked between Haruhi and Mori before he backed away a couple of steps with a wry smile on his face, his hands raised in a gesture of defeat.

"Sorry, no offense meant. I didn't know she was taken."

If he had been someone else Takashi would have started at that. He had pondered before the possibility that Haruhi might end up in a relationship with one of the club members. It was obvious that Tamaki and Hikaru liked a lot, and as Honey had mentioned to him, it was likely that Kaoru and Kyoya were simply unaware of feelings that already existed. But he had never really thought that anyone might suppose that _he_ was a contender for her romantic affections.

The changes in social dynamics which would result from Haruhi dating one of the Hosts were something he had considered at length. Mori considered change something to be avoided if at all possible. He liked the small tight-knit group they had formed. Thoughts of the girl with any of his friends had always made him…uncomfortable. He had always assumed that it was his instinctive resistance and dislike for change that caused this discomfort. So he was surprised to find that this boy's misinterpretation of his relationship with Haruhi caused possessive satisfaction to reverberate through him.

Mori took a step closer to her as she finished paying, continuing to survey their surroundings. It was easy to transfer his inherent drive to _protect_ to this tiny girl. He lifted a hand to rest on her shoulder as they left the little shop, deftly using slight pressure to steer her away from bumping into displays and knocking items off shelves as she sorted through her wallet and ignored her forward progress.

Growing up, one of the lessons his father had worked hard to instill in Takashi and Satoshi was honor in all facets of life, including the treatment of women. When he had started to physically mature – shooting up so fast he had to buy new clothes nearly every month - his father had begun to impart advice and wisdom on courtship and intimacy in quiet private moments. Takashi had wanted nothing more than to escape these mortifying moments, but now things his father had said began to drift back to him.

"_Most women are physically weaker than most men. You should protect women both from the dangers of the world and from those men who are less than honorable. There is no greater way to dishonor oneself than by mistreating a woman, by hurting her in any way. Physically or emotionally."_

_A long silence had followed this statement. The kind of meaningful silence his mother teasingly called, 'a Morinozuka conversation'._

"_In your personal relationships you should do everything in you power to protect and safeguard a woman from harm. You should never intentionally toy with a woman's emotions."_

_His father saw the wary confusion in his son's face and patted him gently on the shoulder, offering a slight smile, "It will be easier to understand when you find a woman you want to protect."_

He steered Haruhi towards an ice-cream stand. It was a hot day, and the walk back to the mansion was long. He calmly intercepted her when she reached for her wallet, paying the amused vendor over her irritated protests that she wasn't so poor she couldn't afford an ice cream.

"Haruhi," the calm admonishment in his voice stopped her and she huffed again as she accepted the cone with a slightly sullen 'thank you'. A corner of his mouth twitched.

Mori suspected that Haruhi might offer a pleasant surprise to anyone willing to invest the patience to peel back the protective layers she surrounded herself with. It was true that she was not an observably passionate person. But then, neither was he. That only meant that he knew all too well that appearances could be deceiving.

What would it be like to be the man who unlocked Haruhi's ardor?

More importantly, was it even possible? Maybe she really was unaware and unconcerned with that sort of thing.

In a motion he had done a thousand times for Mitsukuni, Mori reached forward and cleaned a bit of ice cream from her cheek with a thumb, lifting his hand afterward to lick the sweetness away.

Thumb still in mouth, he froze.

Or rather, Haruhi's huge eyes, focused on that thumb with startled awareness, made him go still. Her eyes flicked to his and widened even more before a slow flush began to bloom across her cheeks.

She whipped away, but he could still see the tips of her ears burning a fierce red.

Perhaps she was not so unaware and unconcerned with that sort of thing after all.

Takashi couldn't help the almost Kyoya-like smile of satisfaction that appeared briefly on his face before he continued after her. It was a long walk back to the mansion after all.

-END-

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*Peace Y'all*


	5. Vanilla

**Disclaimer – I don't own them or profit from them. This, like all fanfic, is just for fun.**

**AN – Shorter than most. Featuring OOC Haruhi and Sleepytime Mori.**

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**Vanilla**

"Something smells… delicious."

"Vanilla orchids. We had them flown in from Madagascar," Kyoya answered without looking up from his typing.

Mori sniffed delicately, "That's not it." Gracefully, he rose to his feet and gave a languid stretch, his body pulled into a long arch, "That's not it at all."

"Is it my cakes Takashi?"

A lazy smile stretched across Mori's face, "Definitely not your cakes Mitsukuni, too…sweet…." His eyes, half-lidded, never turned to his cousin, remaining fixed on someone across the room. He rolled a shoulder back and craned his neck to one side, stretching out the muscles cramped from sleeping.

"Sleepy Mori is freaking us out." The twins intoned.

Mori's half-lidded eyes flicked…

"Then what could it be?" Honey pouted a little.

"Haruhi…" the sudden address startled her, but it was the low rumble of a voice that prickled across her skin and sent goose bumps chasing after it.

"Yes?"

Catching her wrist between his long fingers he gave an insistent tug to draw her closer. Half-bending he raised her wrist to his face and on a long inhale followed her arm up across her shoulder and up her neck. The exhale fanned across her jaw and ruffled her hair and he smirked when he felt her shiver. With his face tucked near the join of her jaw and neck he took another deep breath and purred, "…delicious…."

With another tug she was standing against him, and then all at once he was kissing her. Gasps rang out around the room and Haruhi's eyes went wide. For a beat she was stiff as a board, then her eyes slid closed almost lazily and she fisted her hands in Mori's lapels, pulling herself closer to him.

Two of the host club members looked horrified, one irate, and one was doing a poor job of looking unaffected. Only the oldest, and smallest member looked at all pleased.

An amused smile was playing around Honey's mouth as he turned to the rest of the group, "Maybe I should give Takashi sleeping pills more often, ne?"

--END--

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***Peace y'all***


	6. Subtlety

**Title: Subtlety**

**Author notes: This bit is a little newer than the others, but still written over a year ago…**

**Disclaimer: I am not the owner or creator of the characters herein. This is a fun, not for profit endeavor.**

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**Subtlety**

Haruhi was sticky and uncomfortable and she sighed in irritation as she pushed back a lock of hair that was plastered to her forehead.

If only her father hadn't decided to take the _entire_ month to go be a part of some sort of traveling drag show - leaving her at home to sort out her belongings before she left for university. The heat was making her irritable, and having to deal with her father's perpetual mess and pack-rat tendencies wasn't helping matters.

She sat back on heels and rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen a knot that had formed between her shoulder blades, and frowned at the feeling of a bead of sweat sliding down the back of her neck and along her spine.

Who knew that the two of them would be able to accumulate so much crap in such a tiny apartment? Well, to be fair to herself, most of it was her father's. She'd spent an hour just that morning on the floor of their cramped little bathroom opening tube after tube of mascara, lip gloss, and eye liner in order to toss out the dried up stuff. All of the beauty products and cosmetics Haruhi owned fit into a single small traveling case. Of course, her father spent his life pretending to be a girl, and Haruhi had spent the last three years pretending to be a boy. So it was probably appropriate.

She was now elbow-deep in the shared closet in the living room, sorting through boxes and boxes of shoes and dresses and trying to decide what she could get rid of without Ranka noticing. She wouldn't normally feel compelled to bother sorting through his things, but when she moved out he was planning to move into a smaller apartment closer to work. And while he might _think_ that he could fit all of his clothing and accessories into a single-room efficiency, Haruhi knew better. She'd already taken one huge trash bag of his clothing to the charity shop two blocks over and another smaller bag of the more outrageous stuff to a local school's theater department.

When a measured knock came at the door Haruhi had half a mind to ignore it, but the low grade worry that always plagued her when her father was out of town made her shift to her feet and grouchily stalk towards the door. If it was a salesperson they were going to get an earful.

When she swung the door open with a curt dismissal ready on her lips she was brought up short by the broad chest that completely filled her field of vision. Haruhi blinked – and looked up.

There was only one person she had ever met who had quite such an impressive stature.

"Mori-sempai!"

"Haruhi."

It was still a little strange to her. For such a silent, taciturn guy that the only times he ever addressed her he did so in such an informal manner. His standard placid expression shifted into a slight smile and before she knew it one of his thumbs was sweeping across her cheek. She started.

The smile faded back into reserve and he explained in his low rumble, "You had dirt,"

"Oh, I don't doubt it, I've been cleaning." Using a forearm she swiped at her face. She paused, honestly at a bit of a loss. What would cause Mori to show up on her doorstep after not seeing or hearing from him for a year? "Would you like to come in? We don't have air conditioning," she warned.

He smiled slightly again and ducked his head as he came in the door.

Haruhi stared at his broad back, her mind searching for potential reasons for him to show up unexpected at her door as he turned to slip off his shoes. No obvious answers were forthcoming, and he remained his usual reserved self as she poured them each a cold glass of barley tea and joined him at the low table.

Shrugging to herself she figured he must have been in the area, or feeling nostalgic and settled on standard polite conversation, "How have you been? I haven't seen you since Tamaki and Kyoya-senpai's graduation last year."

To her surprise a soft blush colored his cheeks and his eyes flicked away from her face.

"Good." A pause, "You?"

"Oh, pretty good. Getting ready to go off to university." She gestured around the little apartment.

He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. He probably hated small talk as much as she did. "You and Hikaru aren't dating anymore?"

"Huh?"

"Mitzikuni said something like that." His face returned to its usual neutrality and he took a sip of his tea.

"Oh, well he's going to design school in London. So there isn't really any point to keep dating."

His eyes flicked to her face and then back to his tea, "Are you okay?"

"Okay? About what?" the timer beeped in the kitchen, "hold on, let me get that, I'm making soup, do you want some?"

He stared at his glass, both hands laid palm down on either side of it, "Are you okay, not being with Hikaru anymore?"

Haruhi knew her surprise must show on her face. She hadn't seen Mori since Kyoya and Tamaki's graduation and before that since his and Honey's. Since this was only their second meeting in two years she didn't know quite what to make of the strange tension that seemed to exist between them. She'd always felt that she knew Mori the least well of any of the host club members. Unsurprising, really, he wasn't the type to offer up information and she wasn't the type to push for it.

"Oh." At least now she understood what he was asking. But only because her father, frustrated by her utter lack of reaction to the dissolution of her first real 'relationship', had informed her that most girls would be very upset in her situation.

"_Oh, I see. I get it dad. But Hikaru and I are just friends, so there's no reason for me to be upset. He's just going to be too far away for us to date."_(Ranka had refrained from telling his daughter that _she _might see Hikaru as nothing more than a good friend, but the young man saw Haruhi quite differently. Her father was constantly torn between amusement and concern that Haruhi, blissfully clueless and unaware, had so many young men fall in love with her)

"I wasn't in love with Hikaru, we were just friends." She explained, "I'm sad that one of my good friends is going to be so far away, but that's all."

And just like that the weird tension seemed to dissipate and Mori gave her a small but genuine smile. Had he been that worried about her emotions regarding the 'break up'?

Haruhi pondered that. She supposed it made sense, Hikaru was his friend too and if there was an ugly break up between two of his friends it could make things awkward.

Haruhi dished up the soup and the pair ate in relative silence.

Mori was the first to finish eating, "You're packing and cleaning at the same time? The whole apartment?"

"Yes, well, my dad is moving into a smaller place when I move out, so I figure it makes sense to do it all at once. But it does mean that it's kind of a big job."

He glanced around at the half-packed boxes and dirty cleaning rags, "I could help for awhile."

She gave him an assessing stare, "Are you really offering?"

He nodded.

"I'm not going to turn you down out of politeness," she grinned, "I could actually use some help getting some boxes down from the top of the closet. Since dads out of town I can't reach them."

Mori frowned as he gathered the bowls and cups from the table, shooing her hands away as she moved to help, "Your father's gone?"

"Oh, yeah, did I not mention that? One of his old friends put together this variety act that got some notoriety and they were invited to do a short tour. He'll be gone until the beginning of August."

"Hmmnn." His tone was noncommittal and offered no opinions on the matter. He simply slid the closet door open and started handing boxes down to Haruhi.

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She was surprised to find him on her doorstep the next day. And the day after.

When he appeared on the third day she felt secure enough in assuming a trend to question him about it.

"I'm making sure you're alright. With your dad gone."

"Oh. Well you could just call for that. You don't have to come all the way over here every day."

His eyes flicked to her face, and that odd tension was back, "Would you prefer that?"

"No." She was surprised by her own answer, "No, the company is nice. I just don't want you going out of your way. But it's nice to see you."

There was an unfamiliar softness in his eyes that she didn't recognize and couldn't read, "Then I'll see you tomorrow."

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Ranka had not been expecting to come home a day early to find Haruhi debating some point about the evolution of Heian Era literature with the tall quiet young man he remembered from her first year in the Host Club.

When the pair noticed him in the doorway, the boy rose gracefully to his feet and offered Ranka a proper, respectful bow.

How interesting.

He was regarding Ranka with the same look that the Hikaru boy had always tried so hard to cover with bravado and that idiot Tamaki had subconsciously tried to hide with false protestations of 'fatherly' affection.

Haruhi was surprised when Mori had stayed for dinner.

Ranka was not.

He mostly felt sorry for the boy. His daughter was utterly unaware when men showed interest in her, and from her apparent lack of response to Mori's subtle (_very _subtle) flirting Ranka suspected this was going to turn into another instance of his cute little Haruhi breaking someone's heart.

He hadn't minded so much with Tamaki or Hikaru. But he sort of liked this Mori character. At least he was thoughtful and respectful – his daughter could do a lot worse.

"So Haruhi, how long has Morinozuka-san been visiting? You two seemed pretty cozy, and I thought that you hadn't seen him since last year's graduation."

"Oh, he just dropped by one day because he heard that Hikaru and I were no longer dating." She paused in washing the dishes, looking thoughtful, "I think he must have been concerned that it would strain our friendship but I told him that everything was okay. He kept coming to make sure I was okay on my own since you were out of town."

"Really? That's all?"

"Yeah, he takes care of people. He's like that."

Ranka stared at his daughter before shaking his head.

"Really, he's not like the other Host Club members. He actually thinks about other people besides himself."

"Oh, I believe you, I think he thinks of you a lot, and thinks a lot of you. But he probably kept coming over because he wants to be your boyfriend, and not because he thought you needed looking in on."

With growing amusement and amazement he watched his daughter go bright red.

"Oh." She said quietly before turning back to the dishes. Her response sounded pleased and the pretty blush remained on her cheeks.

_Oh indeed_. Perhaps this wouldn't turn out _exactly_ the same as the Hikaru debacle.

-END-

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***I don't hate Tamaki. But c'mon, he IS an idiot. A lovable one, but still an idiot***

***Peace y'all***


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